


Secret Satan - Soldier/Spy

by tiny_freakin_head



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Impact Play, M/M, Paddle, Riding Crop, flogger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 22:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: Soldier gets up to more nonsense than usual until Spy lets him get some of that energy out.





	Secret Satan - Soldier/Spy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Waterwindow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterwindow/gifts).

It had been exactly two weeks since Spy and Soldier had taken some time alone, and Spy could _tell_. Soldier’s absurd plans grew more absurd. Once he was caught trying to put an American flag onesie on an angry raccoon, Spy decided it was time to step in again. He had been hoping that Soldier would eventually learn to come to him himself, to make the decision that he _needed _Spy’s attention, but it seemed like he preferred Spy to take that initiative.

It was an easy matter to draw Soldier aside after his shower and suggest that they have an evening together in Spy’s smoking room.

Spy waited in his room, smoking, his toys lined up on his table, and a padded bench sitting central to the room. The fire was lit and the room was warm, warm enough to make it quite comfortable to be naked. He had forgone his suit jacket and tie and had rolled up his shirtsleeves to cool off a little. He still preferred to stay dressed for these sessions. There was something to be said for that little display of power; a naked man submitting for one fully dressed.

“You wanted to see me, crouton, sir?” Soldier stood smartly at attention, gaze fixed in the middle distance, hands clasped neatly behind his back. His fingers were crossed—he hoped Spy had called him here for what he _thought _he’d called him for. But he would not beg for it! If Spy wanted to give him what he wanted, he’d take it, but that was all. He was an _American. _He wouldn’t ask this, or any other, Frenchie for anything.

“Yes.” Spy pretended to look Soldier over. He was neat as a pin, which he usually was at this time, unless he was spending time with Demoman. “Strip for me,” he commanded. Soldier didn’t respond quite so well to questions; he preferred orders.

Soldier saluted him and began undressing, starting with his boots and making his way up until he was fully exposed, standing at attention again.

Soldier wasn’t the only thing standing at attention and Spy was oh so tempted to stroke him, but he knew waiting would be more exciting in the long run. He picked up a coil of rope from the table. “Hands out.” Though Soldier tended towards obedience, it seemed like sometimes he simply couldn’t help himself, and bondage helped to quell those urges.

“I am giving you my freedom _freely_.” Soldier wanted to be very clear on this, so Spy wouldn’t be confused at all. “It cannot be taken, only given.” He held out his hands.

“I know. Thank you.” They had discussed this in length the first time they’d played and Soldier liked to reiterate certain points more often. Soldier held out his hands with a few inches between them; he knew the drill, and Spy quickly and elegantly made his rope into wrist cuffs, tight but not too tight. He gave them a tug and pointed to the bench with a snap of his fingers. “I want your ass in the air,” he told him.

“Yes, sir!” Turning adroitly on his heel, Soldier marched himself to the bench and positioned himself as requested, raising his ass as high as possible. He was determined to be the best he could be, always. His hands slid on the smooth leather until he changed position so his forearms were flat on the bench supporting him, rather than his palms. This way he could elevate himself even more, presenting a nice target for Spy. He liked taking orders, of course, but Spy gave especially good ones.

“Good,” Spy praised, picking up the first of their toys, a riding crop. He tapped the leather tongue of it against his palm, letting Soldier hear the quiet slaps before turning it on him. As he always did, he started them out gently. The riding crop gave light smacks across Soldier’s beautifully muscular ass. As Spy tapped his way harder and harder across Soldier’s ass, his skin began to grow pink wherever the crop touched him.

“You know I can take more than that, cupcake!” Soldier berated him, quickly falling silent again as Spy began to give him what he asked for, reduced to quiet grunts and the occasional moan. “That’s more like it,” he groaned, trying to lift his ass just a little bit more. He wanted to impress Spy. Another word of recognition from…well, not a superior, precisely, but someone whose orders he followed. He couldn’t use his riding crop in battle anymore without imagining it in Spy’s hands, and the resulting erection blossomed so quickly it made his head spin.

Spy rolled his eyes at Soldier’s criticism. _Every time._

The riding crop began to leave square-ish red marks across Soldier’s backside, finally making his skin a lovely red. Spy stopped momentarily, indulging in running a gloved hand over Soldier’s ass. He knew the leather of his glove would be cool against the heat of Soldier’s well-beaten skin, and he loved feeling Soldier shudder under his touch.

Soldier was breathing hard, feeling the bench move beneath him ever so slightly with each deep intake and release of breath. He would never admit it, but he was glad for the slight break. He shivered, arching his ass up to meet the soft touch. Spy’s gloves were leather, just like the crop, but the sensation couldn’t be more different. He felt like something was leaving him, flowing out of him and down the legs of the bench with every stroke. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t miss it. It was just too bad that he had to rely on Spy to get rid of it.

The break was brief, and now Spy put the riding crop back on the table and picked up a sturdy wooden paddle, almost as long as a cricket bat. “Are you ready?” he asked, putting a delicate hand on Soldier’s back, just over his tailbone.

“Ready, sir!” Soldier barked. He knew that Spy had switched implements, but he didn’t know what he’d chosen. _Soldier _would always have used the same tools, in the same order, but Spy was tricky.

Spy almost winced. Soldier was always so _loud_. He often seemed to soften his voice around Spy, but as excitable as he was, it seemed like he couldn’t always manage it. He was always so much quieter after one of their sessions, the difference was amazing.

The hard paddle came down with a loud ‘smack.’

This time Soldier actually cried out, quickly biting his lower lip to stifle the sound. It wasn’t just that the paddle—he recognized the feel of it now—was louder, it also hurt more than the crop, or at least _differently_. He briefly straightened his back, drawing his buttocks down and away from Spy to escape the paddle, but within moments it was raised again and he was braced for more.

Every time he landed a blow, Soldier seemed to tuck himself inwards, as though to protect himself from the paddle, but every time Soldier only took a moment before he was back in the same position, waiting for more. Spy smiled to see it; it was oddly adorable.

The paddle was far heavier in his hands and though it left some truly fantastic red stripes across Soldier’s ass, Spy couldn’t keep it up comfortably. He put it back in its place and picked out Soldier’s favourite toy, a jockey bat. It was a heavier sort of crop, with far less sting to it than the first toy. This time he started with far stronger blows, hitting Soldier with the full strength of the jockey bat.

Soldier cried out again, but this time he didn’t stop himself. These were sounds of pleasure, not pain, and there was no shame in sharing them. He began to fight against the rope keeping his hands together, wanting to start stroking himself now, but the rope held fast. He could—and did—say plenty against Spy, but he knew his knots.

Little purple welts began to appear on Soldier’s skin whenever the very tip of the jockey bat hit multiple times. Spy’s own cock was straining against his briefs by now. He loved seeing Soldier like this. He stopped raining down blows for a moment, pulling off his gloves and setting them aside. With obvious pleasure he ran his fingers over Soldier’s straining cock, encircling it and giving him a few strokes. It was so lovely and thick.

Soldier never knew what Spy was going to do next when he paused like that, but he was disciplined enough to keep his eyes front. When he felt Spy’s warm, bare hand wrap around his shaft, he shifted so his legs were as far apart as they could be on the narrow bench. He thrust, slowly, hoping Spy would let him finish now, like this, rather than making him work for it in some way.

“Not so fast,” he chided, grinning. He took his hand away, pressing his fingers over Soldier’s welts. He loved the low sounds Soldier made when he was somewhere between pleasure and pain. He indulged in running his hand over his own erection briefly, squeezing gently. “One more toy,” he said, his voice a little breathless.

“You are a cruel man, sir!” Soldier grunted, reluctantly settling back into position. Then he had a better idea, and a slow grin spread across his face. He felt or heard Spy step away from him again, and seized the moment of distraction to lower himself farther so he could rub his hot, aching cock on the cool leather beneath him. He closed his eyes with pleasure. He was so close. Just a few more seconds…

“None of that.” Spy picked up the last toy, a braided leather flogger, and snapped it across Soldier’s ass.

Soldier couldn’t be disappointed for long; it was wildly different, but the flogger felt as good, in its own way, as the hand on his cock. Better, if less satisfying, than humping the damn bench. His desperation to cum quickly receded into the background again as he rose and fell with each swing of Spy’s arm, building up to an entirely different kind of climax.

The power of having Soldier still and bound, ass in the air, happily taking everything Spy could give him was intoxicating. He was riding his own high, and everything seemed so perfect and pleasurable. The flogger came down again and again over Soldier’s skin.

“Yes!” Soldier cried. “Yes, Spy, please!” He didn’t know what he was asking for, but he _needed _it._Now._

They were both going full out now and Spy felt just as ecstatic as Soldier. Eventually, the swings began to slow again and Spy became gentler once more. “Good,” he praised. “You did so good for me.” He put the flogger away and ran his hand over Soldier’s cock again. His fingers and thumb couldn’t completely encircle it and he groaned just holding it.

“I did!” Soldier agreed, shifting his legs wider again. Once he was in position he went utterly still, afraid that if he moved at all Spy would stop and make him start all over again. He couldn’t help his deep, panting breaths.

“Get up,” Spy told him, releasing him. “Go lie down.” He pointed to the soft rug in front of the fire. “On your back.” He began to strip off his clothes, quickly.

Soldier obeyed, almost falling off the bench when his legs wobbled beneath him. He glared them into submission and marched over to the rug. Normally he hated the rug for its Commie softness, but right now his ass was tender enough that he appreciated having it between him and the carpet. “C’mere, cupcake,” he growled.

Spy couldn’t help but smile as he joined Soldier, straddling his hips. He took Soldier’s cock in one hand and guided it to his entrance. He always prepared himself before Soldier came to his room, not having the patience to do it when they were so eager, and not wanting to endure Soldier’s clumsy attempts to help. Still, even having been opened up before with a toy, Soldier was so thick that it took Spy a minute to adjust to even having the man’s cockhead in him. “Fuck,” he managed, his voice nearly breaking. Slowly, he began to relax, taking more and more of Soldier until he was fully seated on him. Precum beaded at the tip of his cock but he didn’t give in and stroke himself yet.

It still took a great deal of effort, but Spy had taught Soldier that, in no uncertain terms, _he_set the pace. It was easier with his hands tied, so he was less tempted to grab Spy by the hips and push him down. He gritted his teeth, wanting desperately to just arch up and thrust into Spy but instead forcing himself to lie still and flat and let Spy slowly—slowly!—take him. At last their bodies met, and he groaned with relief, smiling dreamily up at Spy.

“That’s it,” Spy moaned, starting to ride Soldier properly now, not bothering to start slow. He loved the feel of having Soldier in him; his cock filled Spy up so completely. Everything felt so good, his mind was swimming with pleasure. Finally, he took himself in hand, letting his precum slick his strokes.

Soldier reached up and back, his bound hands finding the warm brick of the hearth, thick-tipped fingers clinging madly to it for dear life. “Fuck,” he groaned, eyes wide as Spy drove down onto him again and again. He could see how close Spy was, couldn’t wait for the almost overwhelming tightness he knew to expect when Spy came, knowing it would drive him over the edge the moment Spy finished.

“Yes, _yes!_” Spy cried out. It had hardly taken any time at all before his strokes were irregular, almost fitful. He sank fully into Soldier’s lap with a gasp and finally came across the man’s abdomen and chest. “Oh fuck,” he cried.

Just as Soldier had expected, Spy clamped down hard as he finished, squeezing Soldier’s cock in his tight, perfect heat. The rope audibly creaked as he tried to force his hands apart, and he grabbed the hearth harder as he rode out his own climax, pumping his hips furiously as he filled Spy up.

Soldier’s thrusts lifted Spy bodily and he cried out as he felt the other man cum in him. Spy didn’t stop stroking until he was exhausted and Soldier had fallen still, finally leaning backwards, panting. After a few long moments he untangled himself from Soldier and flopped over onto the rug next to him with a sigh. His whole body felt lit up. “Good,” he praised again.

Grinning at the praise, Soldier grumbled some fond nonsense syllables. Within moments he was snoring.

Spy couldn’t help rolling his eyes again, but it was fond. He stroked his thumb along Soldier’s cheek affectionately, and began to unbind him. Soldier would nap for a time and then they’d part ways. But for now, Spy indulged in laying next to him and dozing.


End file.
